


Numb

by bringmesomepie



Series: In the Spirit of Song [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Cigarettes, Dean Has Secrets, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, Gen, Homophobia, Hurt Dean Winchester, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Linkin Park - Freeform, M/M, POV Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, Secrets, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Songfic, numb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2380766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringmesomepie/pseuds/bringmesomepie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I've become so numb, I can't feel you there,<br/>Become so tired, so much more aware.<br/>I'm becoming this, all I want to do<br/>Is be more like me and be less like you.'</p><p>~ Numb by LINKIN PARK</p>
            </blockquote>





	Numb

“Why can’t you be more like your brother?” His father yelled. _‘Why can’t I be like my brother?’_ he thought. He stormed up the stairs. “Get back down here, Dean! I’m not done talking to you!”

Dean slammed his bedroom door and flopped face first on his bed, and buried his head in his pillow and screamed. He sat up and grabbed his phone and flicked it on. He had one unread message.

_Ugh, Mom’s being a real bitch today. ~ Jo Bean_

Dean rolled his eyes. ‘ _What’s Ellen doin? ~ De-Man_

_‘Just bitchn about everything…’ ~Jo Bean._

_‘Just say Yes M’am and move on, woman…Maybe she’s just having a bad day. Cut her some slack, Jo. She’s runs the Roadhouse basically on her own. If it wasn’t for Ash and Bobby, she would run herself into the ground. It’s not like you would help her anyway…’ ~ De-Man.’_ Dean set his phone down and shook his head. Dean closed his eyes and heard John praising Sam on a project grade he did perfect on…of course.

Dean was an ok student. His grades weren’t horrible but they weren’t the best. He got by with B’s and C’s. It was Sam who was perfect in everything. Amazing grades, very athletic, and a just all around nice guy. He was the golden child, which made whatever Dean did look like complete and utter shit.

His phone started buzzing and he quickly realized someone was calling him. Dean picked it up and looked at the caller ID. It was Jo. Before he could even answer she was talking. “What’s going on with you? You usually listen to my problems. You usually laugh and tell me to ride it out.”

“I’m just tired, Jo.”

“Physically tired or fed up, because that text you sent me was full of anger.”

Dean closed his eyes. “I’m fed up….”

“What’s going on?” Jo sighed as if she didn’t want to hear.

Dean clenched his jaw and dug his nails into his thigh. “What was that?”

“I was talking to you about my Mom and you’re just being an ass.”

Dean dug deeper into his thigh. “If you would actually help your mother out, she wouldn’t be a bitch all the time. If you gave two shits about her, she would be in a better mood. Ash works his ass off to help Ellen out. Bobby works part time at the Roadhouse and full time at the garage. All you do if go to school. When you get home all you do is sit on your ass and bitch to me about your mother. I’m fed up, Jo. You’re not the only one who has problems.”

“Some friend you are.” Jo hung up. Dean dropped the phone onto his bed. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and opened the first drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a tiny red box. He crossed his leg Indian style and pulled up his sleeves.

He lifted the lid and pulled out a tiny photograph. It was him and a beautiful, older woman with long blonde hair and a smile that tear any frown away. Dean clenched his jaw again. “Hi Mom.” Under the picture was one thing that Dean felt kept him stable from feeling his Father’s disappointment. A silver blade. That would make all the pain go away.

 ** _I'm tired of being what you want me to be  
Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface  
Don't know what you're expecting of me  
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes  
_** _(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)_ ****  
Every step that I take is another mistake to you  
(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)

“Castiel! It’s time to go!” Naomi yelled.

“Coming, Mother.” Castiel jogged down the stairs.

“No running. Straighten your tie. I have to at least look presentable for the Reverend.” Naomi took her purse and headed for the door.

“Yes, M’am.” Castiel ducked his head down.

“Michael, Gabriel, Lucifer, Anna, it’s time to head to church.” Castiel opened the front door for his mother. “Well, aren’t you sweet, Castiel. Fix your hair, I don’t want Father to think I’m raising hooligans.”

“Yes, Mother.” Cas ran his fingers through his hair and got a sigh for Naomi.

“Stop, you’re just making it worse. Let me do it. You can’t do anything right.” Naomi flattened his hair down until she thought it was perfect. That’s when Michael, Gabriel, Lucifer, and Anna came out in Sunday best. Michael wore a perfectly tailored suit. Gabriel wore a simple pink polo and khakis. Lucifer wore a simpler outfit to Michael but wore a light blue button down under his jacket. Anna wore a white button down fleece and a black knee length shirt with simple white high heels.

Castiel wore a white button down that used to be Michael’s and it was too big for him. He wore old black dress pants. He completed the outfit with his tan trenchcoat and a blue tie.

Once they left Castiel spent the next couple hours putting on a fake smile and the perfect youngest son appearance until he got home.

“Castiel, set the table. Dinner is in half an hour.” Naomi ordered.

“Yes, M’am.” Castiel got up and began setting the table. He got out the plates and set them on all the place mates then got out the silverware.

After all the forks, spoons, and knives were set Castiel brought over the glasses. Right as he turned to set one of them on the table the cup slid out of his hand and crashed to the ground. Castiel froze in place. He dropped to his knees and began to pick up the big broken pieces of glass.

“Castiel!” Naomi piped sternly. “What did you do? Do you know how much those glasses cost?”

“I’m sorry, Mother. It’s just slipped.” Castiel stuttered.

“You can’t do anything right. You can’t even set the table, right.”

“I’m sorry, Mother. I’ll clean this up.”

“No, get out of the kitchen.” Naomi waved him away.

Castiel dashed up to his room and quietly shut the door. He propped on the door and slid down until his butt hit the ground. He ran his hand through his hair and brought his knees to his chin. “I’m trying, Mama. I’m sorry.” He whispered to himself as tear fell from his face.

 **** _I've become so numb, I can't feel you there_  
Become so tired, so much more aware  
I'm becoming this, all I want to do  
Is be more like me and be less like you

“Dean!” John yelled. Dean snorted awake. He pulled himself off the bed.

“I’m up.” Dean mumbled.

“You gotta take Sam to his friends house.” John yelled up.

Dean looked at the clock. _‘9:30’_ “Be down in a second.” He looked down at himself. He threw on a hoodie and pulled on some sweatpants and ran his hands through his hair and walked down stairs.

“Come on, Dean. Brady is waiting for me at his house.” Sam popped to his feet.

“Why are you heading over so early?” Dean grabbed his car keys and wallet.

“We have a lot to do today. Come on, hurry.” Sam rushed out of the house with a smile on his face. Dean couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t stay mad at Sam. Even when he is mostly mad at Dad, but Sam was a part of it. Sam was a good kid, Dean was not.

Dean stepped into his shoes and walked to his beloved Black 1967 Chevy Impala. Sam was looking out the windshield and looked concerned. “What’s wrong, Sammy?”

“Are you ok, Dean?”

“What are you talking about? I’m fine. A little tired because you’re scrawny little ass had to get me up this early.”

Sam shook his head. “That’s not what I’m talking about, Dean. Dad was yelling at you yesterday. You know he doesn’t mean it when he said “why can’t you be like your brother”…” Sam said looking down at his hands.

“Alright, Sammy. You’re not gonna talk about that. I’m gonna drive you to Brady’s house and you’re gonna call me when you’re ready to come back home.” Dean pulled out of the driveway.

Sam remained silent. He knew Dean was gonna talk about his feelings. The drive to Brady’s house wasn’t long. Once Sam was out of the car Dean drove to the Roadhouse. He didn’t really care that he was still wearing his pajamas. It was a Sunday morning, everyone is either at church, passed out drun, or just plain passed out asleep.

He strolled in and to the bar and sat down. Ash was asleep on the pool table, which made Dean smirk. “Ellen? You up? If you aren’t you left the store open.”

“Dean Winchester, it is too early for you to be awake. The Dean I have grown to know is never awake before noon on weekends.” Ellen smiled.

“I had to drive Sam to a friend’s house.” Dean smiled. “I also wanted to see if Jo was up and about.”

“She is, but if I remember correctly. She called you and angrily hung up and I heard her call you a selfish, two-faced, asshole, she regretted ever being friends with.”

Dean nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

“What happened?” Ellen asked handing Dean a soda in a glass bottle. _‘Damn, Ellen, just this once could you give me a beer…’_

“She texted me something about you being a bitch. I told her you were probably having a bad day and was straight forward with her. She flipped out…”

Dean heard footsteps and then Jo appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk.” Dean replied standing up.

“No, I don’t want to talk to you. You make me feel like a bad person. I go to you when I need to talk to someone. You are—were—my best friend and now I don’t know who you are. You were the only person who wouldn’t judge me or made fun of my knife collection.”

“Jo, I had a bad night last night. I was on edge and I just blew up…I’m sorry you got the brunt of it.” Dean stepped forward.

“No, I’ve had it. I hate you, Dean Winchester. Get out of my life! This isn’t the first time you have blown up in my face. There is always something going on with you. It’s like you have to top everyone. I’m done. Get out.” Jo yelled.

“Jo…”

“NO! GET OUT!”

Dean backed out of the building and rushed to his car. He pulled out of the parking lot and just drove until he reached an empty park. It was still early and it had rained a few days before so everything was still kinda wet so not many people were there.

He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a small black box. He opened the box was a small old sheet of paper. _‘Watch out for Sammy.’_

He set aside the paper and pulled out the razor blade. He pulled up his sleeve and looked down at his mutilated arm. He touched the blade down onto his arm but didn’t do anything…yet.

He sat there for around 2 hours just making a hand for of cuts. After every cut he let the blood slowly bubble up before taking a rag he had in his car and putting pressure on it until it stopped bleeding and did it again.

It was around 1 before he got out of his car and walked over to a park bench and sat down. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He didn’t even notice someone come and sit down beside him. “Having a rough day, too?”

Dean flinched. He looked at the person with the sudden voice. He smirked. “How could you tell?”

“Takes one to know one.” The man smiled and stared into Dean’s eyes.

“Rough day? More like rough life.” Dean replied and looked down to his hands.

“I’m with you on that. I’m guessing a family member?” Then man asked.

“You’re good…and it’s kinda creepy.” Dean smiled. “The names Dean.”

“Castiel.”

 ** _Can't you see that you're smothering me,  
Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control?  
'Cause everything that you thought I would be  
Has fallen apart right in front of you.  
_** _(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)_  
 **Every step that I take is another mistake to you.  
** (Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)  
 **And every second I waste is more than I can take.**

Castiel climbed out of his window and walked down the street until he reached the park nearest to his home. He normally sat on a park bench that was empty and smoke a cigarette. As he neared his bench he noticed someone there.

After getting closer he recognized the man. He went to the same school as the mystery man. He looked closer at the man. He looked less than content. He seemed angry or exhausted. He sat down beside the boy. He almost spoke a handful of times. Castiel had never been the most social person ever. Why was he trying to talk to this man? “Having a rough day, too?” He finally spoke.

The man flinched and his head jerked forward. He gave Castiel a once over and then smirked. “How could you tell?”

“Takes one to know you.” Castiel smirked. The man had stunning green eyes. He could get lost in this man’s eyes for days. They were so pure, so soft, so sensual, so—he had been staring for too long.

The man suppressed a laugh. “Rough day? More like rough life.” The man looked down at his hands. _‘How could a man who looks like that have a rough life?’_

Castiel nodded. “I’m with you on that. I’m guessing a family member.”

The man looked back over to Castiel. “You’re good--” He smiled then smirked. “—and it’s kinda creepy.” Castiel blushed and looked away for a moment. “The names Dean.”

He nodded. “Castiel.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Castiel? That’s such a formal name.”

“My mother is a very religious woman and so she names all of her children after angels.”

“How many siblings you got?”

“Four; three boys and a sister. Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, and Anna. How about you? Any siblings?” Castiel asked digging around in his pockets; pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “Is it ok if I smoke?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I have a younger brother, Sammy.” Dean looked down at his hands while Castiel lit his cigarette. “You don’t look like the smoker type. I mean you’re wearing like Sunday best clothes.”

“My family is very religious. Me…not so much. I believe in—God, but I don’t think I agree with what my preacher and mother preach.” Castiel sighed after he took a drag.

“How so…?” Dean shyly asked.

Castiel held out the pack of smokes. “Want one?”

Dean leaned away for a moment, as if afraid. He shook his head. “No—“ He responded.

“Ok.” Castiel nodded and put the pack in his pocket. “I don’t agree with my mother about the gays. She always says that the gays will burn in Hell, because in the Bible if a man lay with another man they shall burn…or something like that.”

Dean looked down at his watch and looked around. “I better get going. Forgot to do some homework and I’m barely passing as is.”

“It was good talking with you, Dean. Can we do this again?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, soon.” He began to walked away in somewhat of a hurry.

“Wait, Dean.” Castiel stood.

“Yeah?”

“You seemed afraid when I offered you a cigarette…”

Dean rose his hand up and Castiel stopped talking. “My father was a smoker…that caused my mother death.”

Castiel stood in silence as Dean turned and hurried over to this beautiful black vintage car. Cas watched as the other man drove off with a pained look on his face. Castiel stomped out the cigarette and walked home where he showered and went into his room where he stayed until the next morning…Monday morning.

 **** _I've become so numb, I can't feel you there,_  
Become so tired, so much more aware  
I'm becoming this, all I want to do  
Is be more like me and be less like you.

Dean walked into the front door and John stood there in the living room staring right at Dean. John was holding a paper in one of his hands. Dean slowly crept over to his father.

“Care to tell me what this is all about?” John lifted the paper and showed it to Dean.

Dean looked closer and he knew exactly what it was. “D-Dad…”

“What the Hell were you doing ordering porn on demand…and at that… gay porn?” John yelled.

“I can explain…it was an—“

“If you say it was an accident, boy, I swear I will knock you into next week.”

Dean remained silent and he could feel his face heat up. John stormed over to Dean and gripped Dean’s collar. He was shaking in fear. He hadn’t seen John like this since he almost failed Math sophomore year…2 years ago. This was twice as worse though. Dena was breathing in short pants and was sweating profusely in fear.

“Get upstairs and get my switch.” John whispered in Dean’s ear before Dean flew up the steps. Dean didn’t show up to school that next day.

 **** _And I know_  
I may end up failing too.  
But I know  
You were just like me with someone disappointed in you.

It took two weeks. Two weeks after they met in the park they ran into each other at a coffee shop. They were both alone. Castiel had been looking for Dean every day at school. He normally saw Dean at lunch every day, but he hadn’t shown up at all. Castiel was sitting at a table by himself finishing up some homework when he heard the chair in front of him being pulled forward. He looked up and he was surprised and shocked at who his eyes connected with. Dean.

“Hi, Cas.” Dean said softly. It was like it pained him to speak. Castiel cringed.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean sat, pulled in his chair and set his arms on the table. “How are you?”

“Hanging in there, what’s wrong? Did you hurt your voice?” Castiel gave Dean a once over and realized Dean was pale, and hints of bruising was on his cheekbone. His hair was a mess and the eyes Castiel connected with two weeks ago weren’t there anymore. They were replaced by empty, hallow, dull moss green lifeless eyes filled with sadness, hopelessness, and fear. “Are you ok?”

Dean nodded. “I’m fine, just a sore throat. That’s why I got coffee.” Dean smiled, but Castiel knew he was faking.

Castiel knew a fake smile when he saw one, because he wore one every day. In the presence of his mother he wore a mask, at church, smiles and nods, at school a half smile and content; hidden emotions, but Dean’s mask was different. There were painful secrets hidden behind Dean’s once bright green eyes. “How are you doing?”

Dean took a swig of his coffee. “I’ll be better soon.”

“It’s good to see you again, Dean. We need to do this more.” Castiel smiled.

“I’ve been really busy lately. Come by my house Friday after school. I’ll be free, by then. Just come up to my room, I’ll be waiting. Bye, Cas.” Dean stood and left the room.

Castiel was confused. He watched Dean leave the small shop. He didn’t know how long he sat there until he realized the coffee was had been drinking was ice cold and it was getting dark out. Today was Wednesday night. He could wait to see Dean. Castiel got up and pulled out his pack of cigarettes and once he left the building he lit one. As he walked down the street he thought about Dean’s words over and over again in his head.

It’s all he could think about Thursday and Friday morning. The in hit him like a ton of bricks.

 **** _I've become so numb, I can't feel you there,_  
Become so tired, so much more aware.  
I'm becoming this, all I want to do  
Is be more like me and be less like you.

 _‘Over, under, pull it tight, Make a bow, Pull it through to do it right.’_ He tied the knot. School ended 15 minutes ago. It was time. He slipped on his favorite outfit and pulled up the sleeve. He grabbed his little red box and lifted the lid and took the picture of him and his mother and set in on his bed. He grabbed the rope and wrapped it around then grabbed his blade. It was his perfect fantasy. It would all be perfect.

Two slash and a chair knocked from under him. Nobody heard, and nobody knew.

 ** _I've become so numb, I can't feel you there.  
_** _(I'm tired of being what you want me to be)_ ****  
I've become so numb, I can't feel you there.  
(I'm tired of being what you want me to be)

Castiel walked fast down the street. It hit him as 4th period ended. It was gonna be too late. His walking pace turned to jogging, which turned to sprinting. He looked up Dean’s address in the phonebook earlier that day. He dashed down the path away and up the steps and banged on the front door until a gruff older man came to the door.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

Castiel shoved past the older man. “Excuse me.” He dashed up the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The man yelled.

Castiel stopped listening. He looked through every room until he came across one that was locked. He banged on the door. “Dean!”

“Dean!! It’s Castiel! Open up! I’m here like I promised.” Castiel banged. The older man Castiel could only imagine was Dean’s father pushed him out of the way and broke down the door.

The man instantly gasped. Castiel had tears bubble into his eyes.

In the middle of the room swung Dean Winchester’s lifeless body. Vertical slits raced angrily down both his forearms and a rope was tied tightly around his neck which emphasized the more than broken neck Dean was sporting. A big puddle of blood below Dean’s feet. He hadn’t been hanging there long by the way the rope was still swinging. Dean’s father cut the rope and got him down. His body was still warm but cooling fast. He was long gone.

Castiel barely knew the guy, but felt something he had never felt before. He felt like he loved the guy. Dean Winchester was too numb to feel anything other than the pain John Winchester inflicted on him. That’s what sent him to jail 2 years later after attempting to sexual assault his youngest son, Samuel Winchester.

Castiel believes Dean is in a better place. Dean was the only one who called him Cas. His only regret was never talking to the man. But now he has a better look on life but a whole in his heart for the love he never had. He can’t tell which on is worse, but as of now, he wants to keep Dean’s story alive.

_That’s the only thing keeping Castiel going._


End file.
